


Talking to Herself

by 400bugsinatrenchcoat



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Late Night Conversations, The Fright Zone (She-Ra)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:15:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27815185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/400bugsinatrenchcoat/pseuds/400bugsinatrenchcoat
Summary: (S1E1) Just after Adora left to go to the Whispering Woods, you have a small conversation with Catra.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 7





	Talking to Herself

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever fanfiction! It's very short and more of an encounter than anything, but please enjoy!

### Talking to Herself

Smoke in the sky is illuminated by the blood red glow of the Fright Zone atmosphere, and you sit alone on an abandoned balcony. The natural haze of your home obscures the light of the sun, the gentle reflection of the moons, or the twinkle of the stars, so the only light around you is from dingy streetlights and the blinking green lights of the Zone’s infrastructure. To a stranger, there would be no way of knowing the difference between day and night, but you can understand from the sound alone that it is just before dawn. During the day, the entire world seems to be clouded with the sounds of cadets practicing combat inside headquarters, but at night, all is silent except for the soothing hum of technology.

The night air rushes around you where you sit. Maybe this was a risk, wandering this close to headquarters in the middle of night, but you aren’t afraid. Your work has you inside headquarters sometimes, when the usual crew is too large to fix finer issues with wiring. Once you even caught a glimpse of Shadow Weaver as you were leaving. It is an honor to work for the Hoard in any way you can, even if that means staying put in the Fright Zone, performing basic maintenance while watching cadets grow up, train, and eventually leave to fight on the front lines.

You lost yourself for a moment, contemplating how it must feel to be one of them. _Alive,_ you think, _it would feel alive…_

A sudden sound below shocks you out of your thoughts. If you get caught… You shouldn't bring yourself t think about that. You stand perfectly still and silent, knowing that the slightest sound might mean your permanent removal from the Fright Zone. That is, if the Hoard was feeling generous.

The source of the sound revealed itself suddenly. A cadet, moving with astounding grace and agility, climbed up to the platform where you stand. Her long, fluffy hair was blowing gently in the breeze, but, despite her graceful movements, she wears a deep scowl. Tall ears emerging from the chaos of her hair twitch slightly. She sits down, back to you, and grumbles something softly to herself.

A moment of silence passes. You are too frightened to move, and the cadet, gazing over the Fright Zone, doesn’t notice you. Then, to your horror, she shifts positions and looks directly at you.

“Oh. Good to know someone’s spying on me.” She growls emotionlessly. You expected a more hostile response and her apathy comes as something of a shock to you.

“Just don’t tell Shadow Weaver you saw me up this late. I’m already one bad move away from getting kicked out of the Hoard or worse, okay?”

She pauses, awaiting your response, but you can’t bring yourself to speak.

“Who am I kidding?” The cadet growls, hugging her legs. She looks cold and, suddenly, quite small. “You aren’t listening to me, are you…”

“I’m here,” you say. She looks up, surprised.

“I—you—what?” She stammers. “Woah, I guess I just… wasn’t expecting… never mind.”

She stands up, gazing at you curiously.

“What’s your name, then? I haven’t seen you around.”

“M758-S.”

The cadet chuckled.

“That’s a mouthful. I’m Catra.”

She sat back down next to you.

“The Fright Zone is a lot better at night, huh?”

You nod but say nothing.

“She and I come up here a lot. My friend. We never see someone like you, but I guess you’re better than Kyle or something. He’d rat us out for sure. Did you… were you up here the other night?”

“No, I was out by the East Outpost. Corroded wires.”

“Oh, good. And thanks, I guess?”

Another moment of silence passes. The way Catra sits is guarded, to say the least—completely alone, in the most isolated part of the Fright Zone.

“I shouldn’t be talking to you,” she continues, breaking the silence, “this is so obviously a trap. Did Shadow Weaver plant you here to spy on me or something, M4000-whatever?”

“M758-S. No, I don’t work for Shadow Weaver. I just do maintenance, that’s it.”

“Hm.” She growls. As if speaking to herself, she continues, “I was the one who spoke to you first, I guess. It would be my fault if you reported me, but that would be better than having to sleep in my bunk alone tonight.”

Catra sighs and looks to the sky.

“I mean, if she wants to go back out there without me, I can’t really stop her. I just can’t help but feel like… like she…”

You hum comfortingly. You want to be there for her.

“Adora,” Catra whispered, her voice full of emotion, “I don’t know if you’re going to come back. I need you back here. I don’t want to be alone again.”

“You are not alone, Catra.” You say to her. She turns to look at you, laughing wildly.

“HA! Yeah, right! Who’s going to stay with me, huh? You? Good one.”

You’re confused by this. Hurt, maybe?

“I’m here with you now!”

“You’re defective, maybe.”

You pause. She’s right, you’re not really here. You’re not really _you,_ after all.

“Where is Adora?”

Catra sighs.

“She’s gone on a crazy suicide mission. Alone. For some stupid sword or something. Now that she’s Force Captain Adora, she only needs me to prove that she can get out of the Fright Zone. She’s free now, and part of me thinks that she’s not going to come back.”

Catra stands before you, glaring down at you.

“I’m going to have to report you, by the way. You’re obviously messed up inside. I don’t think maintenance bots’ programming even support conversation…”

You are silent.

“Thanks for not getting me in trouble.”

She takes a running jump off of the balcony, and you see her catch herself a few feet below, lunging and leaping out of sight.

You let yourself sit in silence for a few more minutes. There is a feeling (odd, isn’t it) that this is the end of the line for you. A few fleeting hours of consciousness—a bug—might just be enough. Sounds start to pick up around you—the cadets waking inside headquarters, chatting idly and preparing for a day of training.

You hope she can work things out.


End file.
